“But suppose it’s a wet day?” suggested Fred, always practical.
“Ah! suppose it is?” I echoed. “Then all our chance may melt away from us.”
Half an hour later, while the Major and the Captain strolled along to have a chat with Mr Batten, at the office of the British Linen Company, of which he was manager, I excused myself and remained behind.
Scarcely had they gone when Graniani passed the window with Selby, both well-dressed and presenting a prosperous appearance. They were speaking in Italian, in order, I suppose, that those who overheard should not understand their conversation. But I knew from the hunchback’s gesticulations that he was excited by some untoward event.
Judith was undoubtedly alone; therefore I rang for the waiter and sent him with my card to “Miss Fletcher.”
Five minutes later she entered the room half-timidly, as though fearful of detection. Her hand trembled, her face was pale, and I saw that she was in a highly nervous condition.
“I had no idea you were here, Mr Kennedy,” she gasped. “What brings you here?”
“I am here to be near you, Lady Judith.” I answered, holding her small white hand. “You are still in distress. How may I help you?”
“How can you help me?” she echoed. “By leaving here at once. If you remain you will imperil your life. Ah! you don’t know the terrible risk you are running.”
“But why are you here?” I demanded. “I believed you were in Edinburgh.”